Beautiful Beast
by secretgirl226
Summary: A new twist on an old tale, my version of the fairy-tale beauty and the beast...
1. Prologue

_Note: The Following is a rewriting of a classic fairy tale...don't read if you want it to be the original ... because it's not._

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**Prologue**

"I'll not bet ye anymore money Naughtington..." Davy looked around and stared directly into Naughtington's eyes. Naughtington was very impressive; unfortunately, he had to admit that much.

"Davy, Davy, Davy..." Naughtington drew in a breath and shook his head. "You've won all the games so far so why not bet more money, eh?" Naughtington was looking Davy boldly in the eye and seemed not to care that he had lost so much money. If Davy had calculated correctly Naughtington had lost enough to pay off all of Davy's debts and more (no easy feat considering all the card games he had played).

"I want to keep playing, but I'm going to bet something more valuable than money." He let this sink in; Davy was enjoying watching Naughtington's eyes gleam with greed. "I'm going to bet...", at this point Davy's eyes flashed and his face seemed demon-like in the candlelight. "I'll bet my eldest and most beautiful...daughter."

Naughtington smiled. "In that case I'll bet you double what I've paid you in this game." Confidence flashed in both mans' eyes and the devilish card game began... 


	2. Chapter 1: Mr Naughtington's Manor

Chapter 1:

**Mr. Naughtington's Manor**

The bells that hung in the Newerton Cathedral were beautiful, and I remember that many of my gloomiest, saddest times were spent wandering around the two twin bell towers at all hours of the night and in the earliest hours of morning They rang out over the town at dawn to wake the workers, slaves, and servants and again at sunset to send us to sleep.  
Mrs. Fig, the Naughtington's' cook, took special pleasure in complaining about the Cathedral bells. "Oh, me poor achin' skull," she would moan, clutching her head in one hand and a butcher knife in the other and the maids, Tess and Camille, would roll their eyes and tell her to stop her bellyaching. Mrs. Fig would yell at them to get out of her kitchens and shouldn't they be off cleaning something?  
This was usually around the time that she would notice me lingering around the door and beckon me inside, tempting me with a comforting "There ye are, child", and some fruit.  
With her graying hair that never, in all the years I ever knew her, seemed to ever be neither brown nor gray, Mrs. Fig, who preferred me to call her Auntie Fig or Figgie, was one of only two true sources of comfort in my life at the Naughtington's'. If I'd had a rough day, and most days were, she was always there in the kitchen with open arms and freshly baked cookies. When I'd just arrived, scared and confused and grieving for the loss of my sisters, it had been she who had shown me to and helped me get settled into the room I was to share with Tess and Camille.  
The whole of the Naughtington household seemed intent on being as nasty as possible - especially Reign Naughtington, whom my father had lost me to in that fateful hand of cards. Originally from Velour, a harbor town across the sea, Reign had married a girl native to Newerton (she'd been visiting an aunt who lived across the waters, or something) and sailed here with her after she'd gotten pregnant with their first child, a son whom Mrs. Naughtington had named Galeigh after her grandfather, or so said Mary, head laundry girl and gossip queen of the Naughtington manor.  
I'd met Mary on my second morning, when she mysteriously appeared in my room and demanded that I give her all my soiled petticoats, dresses, and undergarments, thoroughly shocking me. We'd certainly had servants at home, but none with such a direct, blunt way of speaking. After informing her, rather abruptly, I'm afraid, that I had no dirty clothing for her, her plain face at first lit up into a charming grin and she said, "If things continue like this every day, Miss, you'll be an extraordinarily filthy girl and we'll be fast friends."  
Mary made it her business to first find out all there was to know about me so she could reciprocate with just as much about herself (from her childhood in the lower ranks of the household to her grander, cleaner position today) and even more about everyone she worked for.

"I'm sure you've already met Master Naughtington," she said dryly, and I shivered disagreeably. She clucked her tongue and shook her head. The color must have drained from my face, for she patted my cheek encouragingly. "Don't worry, he's not all so bad. Just try to make sure you muss your hair up a bit and try not to look so presentable all the time and perhaps he'll move onto someone else, Miss."

Her words, as reassuring as they were, did not qualm my fears.  
I was introduced to the Master's family on my first day in the Manor. By family, I meant his children and both of his mistresses, the older-looking one holding a child no older than three years of age, while the younger woman, who looked to be around thirty or so, had a toddler hiding in her skirts.  
I was shocked, to say the least, and almost immediately felt sorry for the emotionless young girls and boy sitting next to Master Naughtington's right, positive they were his children. My father had always been rather piggish, but this man represented all that a woman would dream of and everything she should fear; a conundrum.  
"And now we inspect the newest addition to the household," he said silkily, leaving his children to stand before me. His brown hair was brushed to the side and dark, dilated eyes scrutinized me closely.  
A hand, which had probably never seen a day of work in years, yet was still browned from the sun, reached for me and wrapped around my arm. "Well, at least you aren't the pig your father was. And here I was afeard you'd weigh in at more than our hog." The mistresses gave obligatory giggles and he smirked at them before turning back to give me another once-over.  
"Eyes...lovely. No one around here has blue eyes, my dear - I find yours gorgeous. But your hair...is it naturally such a silver color? It will soon come to make you look years beyond your own. Have you ever thought to dye it with rhubarb or some such berry? Maybe Cecilia can help you." He glanced over at the younger of his two women. "Of course, Cecilia would be happy to help you. I should think that it should be tied back in some such manner as well."  
My hands curled into fists at my sides as I tried to clear my face of any emotion whatsoever. I refused to give in to this...this...beast.  
He cleared his throat, calling me back to the real world. "Well anyway, your figure is good enough, though I should say I prefer smaller bosoms on my women, but again, we can solve that with a corset."  
By now my face must have been bright red. How dare he offend me so, and in front of other people...other people I hardly knew? Had the man no taste for courtesy? Obviously not, for he moved on to comment about my legs, my neck, and most embarrassingly, about my waist. I had more than half a mind to slap him right across the face, but wasn't sure how I'd be able to survive if I was thrown from this household to live on the streets of Newerton. One thing was for sure - I refused to become loose and earn my money through prostitution.  
So I bit my lip and held my tongue with my teeth, knowing that to wag it would lead to my undoing.  
The next day, for I arrived very late the day before, I was given a list of my duties. Aside from helping Camille and Tess clean the various rooms, I was to be the one who went with Figgie into the main of town every other day to purchase and sell goods. Apparently we had a rather good system going and the household made a majority of its money off of the vegetables, poultry, and etceteras that the servants farmed and took into market.  
I was also assigned a new set of clothes - my clothes from home were to be cut up and used for rags. I was allowed to keep a larger piece of my skirt to tie about my hair.  
As a servant, I wasn't (on a usual basis) allowed to mingle with the Naughtington children. I was considered to be part of a different class than they were, so naturally we were kept separated, though at one time I might have gone to school with such children. This was probably the most difficult thing to learn to deal with - my loss of dignity. Reign Naughtington made sure that my pride be trampled over time and time again, as long as it kept me in line and my tongue from wagging too fiercely.

It was raining the day that Figgie took me to Newerton Market for the first time. I remember because I used to love the rain, but for the first time in my life I hated it. The coldness bit at me, and the water was sharp and I could almost imagine it cutting at me and the water streaming down my face was blood instead. Figgie, motherly as she was, insisted on getting me as prepared as possible for the experience before-time.  
"This won't," she said, "be like most other markets ye've visited before, dearie. Newerton's a bit more lawless than your home, I's afraid, so be's careful to stick close to your Auntie Fig." With that, she turned to grab an extra head scarf off of the pegs on the wall. "Oh - and if ye sees something ye thinks is a bit of an odder, than just be letting me know before ye tells anyone else, alright?"  
Confused, I allowed her to tie the scarf gently around my neck to keep the harsh rain from biting any unnecessary skin and then up and back over my hair twice more. "What do you mean by odd, Aunt Fig?"  
Mary, who was passing by with a tweed basket full of soiled clothes at the moment, heard my question and her eyes caught with Fig's watery ones. She turned her worried gaze to me moments later before continuing on as though nothing had happened, but at the door, stopped once more. "She means the wolves, Cherish. She's talking 'bout the wolves."  
Figgie grossly overestimated my abilities to help at market, and I'm afraid that for the better part of that first day I held her back more than assisted as I was supposed to. In the end, Figgie sent me to sit at the edge of Market, near the path back to the Naughtington manor and told me to wait for her to return, telling me kindly that we'd just have to practice at it.  
Sighing, I sat down beneath what little cover I could find from the rain, just a little ways from a few vendors' carts. Searching with my eyes, I saw that one of the carts was filled with roses; the flowers were protected by a carefully strung canopy that kept most the water out.  
Roses were extremely rare plants and as far as I knew, it was nearly impossible to grow them. Unable to contain my curiosity, I got to my feet and rushed across the dirt road to the other side to marvel at the reds and yellows and pinks.

They were all equally beautiful, but I found myself fancying the red ones especially. Reaching out, I took one in my hand and touched the petals softly.

"They're a mite bit hard to grow this side of the ocean, but if ye've the right knowledge and the right means then 'tis not so bad," said the vendor, an elderly man with no teeth. He gave me a kind smile. "Go ahead now, lass, take one."  
Surprised, I began my protests, but he insisted, plucking the half-opened, dark red rose I'd had my eye on from its place and handing it over. "Be careful, now, though, they've a sharper thorns than usual this year," he warned and showed me where I should place my fingers so that I wouldn't get cut.  
"Thank you so much, sir, I truly appreciate it," I said quickly, curtsying like Figgie'd shown me. The old man waved it off and grinned good naturedly.  
"Stop by any time ye'd like, child, and old Horris'll give ye a rose or two to take home to yer mother."  
Something suddenly caught his attention over my shoulder. "Oy! Figgie! What're ye doing in market on such a miserable day as this?"  
I spun about, rose in hand, just in time to see Auntie Fig rush toward us from across the road...and the figure of a wolf disappear into the nearby trees, eyes glowing dark, dark amber. I was still staring into those trees...Those eyes seemed so...so familiar...I barely had the time to start to digest this when Mrs. Fig ran up.

"Ay dear wha'd ya stand'n round like that? Couldn' ye see that was an oddie?" She seemed almost furious at me for forgetting what she and Mary had told me about the "odders" just a few hours ago. I couldn't blame her; I had been extremely dimwitted at that moment. Suddenly a thought struck me and I quickly turned around, looking wildly for the man who had given me the rose. He had gone, but I still had the beautiful rose that I had been so fond of, I glanced at it and found an instant sense of comfort radiate over me.

As soon as it stopped raining we walked back to our stand. Auntie Fig sighed, collected our inventory, and started guiding me up the path to the Naughtington manor by my elbow (none too gently mind). I could tell she was displeased with me, and she seemed rather distraught by something. I looked at her face and saw that the soft wrinkles had been replaced deeply etched lines in her stone-like face. Had I really behaved that badly?

As I was turning my head to stare back in front of me, she turned her head and caught my eyes. Her glance seemed to be more of a warning than anything, then very suddenly her face softened and she became the Figgie I was starting to know so well.

"I'm sorry child...I was thrown way back into me past at that market...A past that I'm not yet so willin to remember." She stared at the rose in my hand and wrinkled her nose. "Ay dear Cherish I' be gettin rid of that there rose if I was you...But it's your decision girly."

We continued our way up the path, and as we did so I became increasingly aware of someone watching...no stalking us. I glanced back through the trees uneasily and spotted a pair of amber eyes, which quickly disappeared deep into the trees. From then on I knew that my life was going to take on something of an...interesting twist.

Figgie caught me staring into the forest and began to ask me what I was looking at, "Nothing Figgie...I'm just wondering at how quickly the rain dried up. It's very green out here in the woods. One could easily get lost out here, the trees and undergrowth is so thick." Figgie glanced at me in an odd way.

"Cherish, dear girl 'tis all the better me dear. Makes it a might harder for oddies to see us...don't ya think dearie?" I nodded my consent and kept a watchful eye out for these "oddies" that Figgie increasingly spoke of. I didn't see a trace of the amber eyes for the rest of the journey.

When we finally arrived back at the manor I was exhausted and couldn't imagine a worse torture than having to go and help Marry with the large abundance of laundry that the household produced each day. I was wrong.


	3. Chapter 2: Mr Naughtington himself

**Chapter 2: **

**Mr. Naughtington Himself**

When I got back to the manor Tess met me and I was told to immediately change rooms, move my things, and then get to bed. When I asked her the reason, all she would do is shake her head and explain the in the vaguest way possible.

"The master's order dear, he said you'd been promoted or there was some such special occasion. I'm sorry but I'm not allowed to ask or answer questions and the master said it twas nothing to worry about." She smiled encouragingly at me, and I suspected she knew exactly what was going on.

I was tired already, I didn't argue in the least. Though if I had known what was in store for me, I might well have run out the door that very second and offered myself to the elements. Anxious as I was I didn't bother to think very hard about the scene from the market, in fact it had now been much forgotten from my mind. My body was slowing, becoming as sluggish as my thoughts and Tess had to half drag me up a flight of stairs. The main stairs in fact, which was quite odd we were never allowed on the main stairway, but as it was I really didn't trouble over it in my exhaustion.

As we reached the door, I realized this was my most favorite guest room, I'd seen while cleaning the previous week. Everything was in the palest sky blues, baby blues, and silver, all delicately balanced around each other. I was shocked, and rather pleased I'll admit, that I was getting a honor such as this. Movement from the doorway caught my attention and I realized that Tess was still in the room.

"Is that all you'll be needin' Cherish? There's fruit on the table and fresh clothing in the wardrobe." She stared at me inquiringly and it took me a second to realize she needed to be dismissed.

"Thank you Tess, won't you share the fruit with me? It looks absolutely delicious." I was hoping to tempt her to stay and tell me what was going on. Unfortunately the only loyalty in this house was to Mr. Naughtington alone, so sadly she just shook her head, I nodded for her departure and she left.

I was now alone in the room of my dreams and a wonderful sunset was beginning outside. Thinking about it I realized, even as tired as I was, I would like to get a better look at it. Quickly I walked towards the door, not wanting to miss a second of the sunset, and to my shock and horror I discovered the door was...Locked!!!

I was now very upset, for it was beginning to become clear to me, exactly what Mr. Naughtington was planning for me. I shuddered and hoped against hope, him being the man he is, that I was wrong. Suddenly I could hear footsteps and Mr. Naughtington's loud booming voice.

Beginning to panic, I rushed to the window and to my surprise I found that it was unlocked. As soon as I was out the window I started running towards the forest, not really thinking about where I was going, just knowing I had to get away from that room.

Blindly I ran into the cover of the trees, just as an eruption of noise escaped from the window I had so stupidly left opened. Once I had gone a bit further into the forest, so as not to be seen, I turned towards the mansion not quite sure what do now. I could still here some yelling and I started making out some of the words.

"-stupid enough to run into the woods! I can't believe that servants of my household are impaired enough to leave the window open. There was a brief silence as if the man was calming himself. "Hmm...Cherish? Cherish can you hear me? Well if you can, know that you won't be able to sleep inside my home until you pay me...uhh...a nighttime visit. Don't worry you'll still be able to eat and work for me until then, I like games so we shall see how this one plays out." At his words my entire body began to quake and I felt numb with shock.

Game? How can something such as this be considered a game? I took a few more steps into the forest, accidentally bumping into the cool bark of a nearby tree. This brought me out of my shock and at the same time reminded me how cold it was outside. I shivered, appreciating the fact that I hadn't had time to change out of the clothing I'd worn to market. I was cold, yes, but I would survive.

Wondering through the forest in search of somewhere to try and sleep for the night, my searching was interrupted by a brief howl piercing the evening. Strangely enough this howl didn't entice me into as much fear as Mr. Naughtington's speech had.

Stopping for a moment to determine if I wanted to try and sleep in a tree for the night, I became suddenly aware of someone watching me. Spinning around suddenly, to try and catch whoever it was off guard, I became slightly dizzy. Once my head cleared a bit from the dizziness I realized that no one was there. I turned back towards the tree I had been pondering, only to find that the old man, Horris, was now in front of me. He grinned and gave a slight bow.

"Hello miss, ye look like ye need a place t'stay. I know of an old shack where you could go...it has a cot and blankets so it'd be a mite bit warmer then the weather out here." He seemed harmless enough; I began to nod my assent to this. I stopped short, remembering what Figgie had said about him being an oddie coupled along with the howl I'd hear moments before, it made me a slight bit nervous. He nodded at me as if reading my thoughts.

"Aye, I am an oddie. I promise not to harm ye child and I never go back on me promises. Come on you'll see old Horris'll stick to his word." I nodded again and he began leading be slightly to the left of where I'd been wondering. At least going with him there was a chance that I would not be harmed, compared to what awaited at Naughtington Manor the idea of oddies seemed harmless. "Now then dear girly, do ye still have that rose I gave you?"

With a start I realized that I still had the rose in the pocket of the cape I was wearing. It must be crushed by now! Gently I pulled it out and found to my amazement that it was still in perfect condition. Clearly pleased by my shock Horris smiled and nodded to the rose.

"Remember there lass, watch the thorns. Ye don't want to be pricking your finger now do ye?" With that he turned back again to lead me to the shack.

The whole situation struck me as odd but I was too tired to complain. We kept walking in a, if not comfortable, calming quiet. I began to ponder my options, I could run away...but I refused to become a loose woman rambling about the streets for a customer. I'd been working as a servant and could continue to do that in someone else's home, but if Naughtington found me he could force me back. My head began to ache and I shook myself gently to remind me to take things one moment at a time, at least for now.

Sighing I looked up and was mildly surprised that I hadn't tripped over any tree roots while immersed in my brooding. Horris was still moving steadily forward in front of me, quite swiftly for such an elderly man. I shook my head; it must be because he's an oddie. While we were walking a slight mist had crept upon the forest and the tree branches seemed to be leaping into existence out of nowhere.

The mist was playing many tricks on mine eyes and I wondered if there was always mist during this time of night. "Horris is the mist-" I broke off as I saw the outline of the old man, it seemed he had been tall one moment and then shrunk back to his usual size. _It must have been the mist_, I thought. Horris didn't seem to have heard me so I let the question drop.

Soon a small building loomed out of the darkness, more of a cottage then a shack if you ask me, at that point it was the most beautiful sight, I was so exhausted. I began thinking heavenly thoughts about warm blankets and the wonderful cot Horris had told me about. I stopped short as I spotted a large gate that I had overlooked previously. Why was such a large gat surrounding such a tiny cottage? Horris opened the gate as I watched worriedly, catching sight of my face he smiled and walked back towards me.

"Dearie, don't ye be worrying now. Dear this is an old shack that the gardener of these grounds used to live in. There is a large house farther along that I will be stay'n in, I hope that you won't mind being in this here scruffy place. It's a mite bit small but more charmin' then good ol' Horris here." He took my arm and propelled me through the open gate. I resisted little and soon let him steer me towards the little cottage with ease.

As we got closer to it I saw it was really well taken care of, and quite amiable as well. It was actually made out of wood, which was strange for this area most people couldn't afford to build their houses of wood, it was also painted a faint blue color, or maybe that was just the moon. In any case this cottage was a far more welcoming sight then any I'd seen in the past few days. Horris stayed my hand as I put it out to open the door; I looked at him questioningly and noticed he had a grim expression upon his face. For some inexplicable reason the sight of the usually cheery Horris turned so solemn, chilled me to the bone with terror.

"Lass, I don't mind whatever else ye be doing in this house, but do not light a fire…Strictly speakin' if you light a fire you may well have yer life placed in danger. Now lanterns be fine as long as you draw the curtains, keep them away from the windows, and keep the lantern quite dim. The thing of the matter tis that we wouldn't want anything seeing the light and comin' to investigate. Other than that, I'll be back for you in the mornin'. Night lass." As Horris said these things his eyes shifted about and he fidgeted as if he was telling a lie. _A mystery for another day,_ I thought.

For now I was so tired that I just nodded slowly, took from him the key to the sturdy lock, opened the door and scrambled around in the dark until I found what I assumed must be a bed, not a cot. Horris was certainly very modest about the cottage's situation but for now all that mattered was sleep. I sank gratefully down into the pillows and pulled the blankets up to my chin, snuggled into the warmth of the bed I quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter 3: Morning Bells?

Chapter 3:

The Morning Bells?

I was awoken in the early hours of the morning by the cathedral bells, I grumbled about the noise and tried to get back to sleep, but I simply couldn't. So instead I got up, found some cream and bread on the small table in the kitchen, and had some breakfast. After I had finished my breakfast I looked around and realized how unkept the cottage was, it was quite dusty and the windows and floors could use a good scrubbing. I sighed to myself already feeling the day's exhaustion upon me, but I was determined to have this place nice and tidy by the time Horris came for me, whenever that was going to be. I looked around for some supplies and was able to locate a few rags, a bucket, and a broom from an alcove in the kitchen.

Not only was the house actually painted a faint robin eggs blue, but it also had light pine wood floor, I was quite amazed by the quality of the little home and the fact that no one lived here after putting so much time into the building of it. It was all quite puzzling but I figured I'd wait until Horris got here and question him; until then there was work to be done. I hummed as I worked and the chores went by quickly, it was still early morning when I began singing a lullaby my mother had taught me as a little girl. It calmed me substantially as I went over the previous evening's events. I made a list in my head of what had happened.

_•1. __Tess had betrayed me and was no longer to be trusted._

_•2. __Mr. Naughtington had said I could still work for him...should I go back?_

_•3. __Horris had lied to me about something, judging by the way he'd acted last night._

_•4. __There was something dangerous in this place, according to Horris, that would do me harm if it noticed my existence in the cottage._

_•5. __The cottage now seemed to belong to me and I was quite please about it._

_•6. __Oh, and Horris IS an oddie._

_•7. __Now the only person it seems I can trust besides Figgie is Horris ...and I'm not quite sure what to make of him._

There are many more things I could've added to the list but those were the things that concerned me at the moment. Really my largest problem was my employment and deciding who exactly I could trust. The cathedral bells rang out the time, seven o' clock, only half an hour until the servants of the household would begin their chores. The family of the house didn't rise until well past eleven o' clock so the servants were able to sleep in, so I still had enough time to return to my chores. Did I dare do it?

I sighed and briefly glanced around the almost clean cottage. _I suppose I have to go back if I want a way to support myself. I need the pay more than I'm afraid of that devilish Naughtington. I'll make sure and stay mostly out of sight. Only dear Figgie will know I'm there, no going into room unaccompanied._

With one of my most strenuous worries out of the way I braced myself for the clear, cold morning I was about to encounter. I opened the door a sliver and peered out. There was still a slight mist about, but one could definitely see through it.

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Note: *Sorry for not updating AT ALL for the last few months! Just so you know I worked out the bugs in chapter 2 and this is the new chapter...hopefully I'll update soon because this isn't the entire chapter, but I figured it would be better to get something up, reviews are appreciated! Thanks to my readers!*


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